


wasn't expecting that

by bluelines



Category: Hockey RPF, Women's Hockey RPF
Genre: Blind Date, F/F, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 00:36:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11302110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelines/pseuds/bluelines
Summary: Their friends set Kacey and Marie up on a blind date, and it turns out better than the two of them would have guessed.





	wasn't expecting that

**Author's Note:**

> These were real roommate matchups as far as I can tell...so there's that.

Marie has been living with Anya for two weeks the first time she comes home and there are American Olympians in her living room. _Their_ living room.

She hesitates briefly in the doorway, trying to see if she can tell who’s who from the backs of their heads, but she can’t, she’s only really ever seen them in gear. 

Anya notices her first, craning her head around and grinning. The two people she’s squeezed in between turn their heads too and Marie sees it’s Hilary and Meghan, which makes sense but still makes her nervous. 

“Pou,” Anya says, waving her over, “come watch House Hunters with us.”

And--well, she doesn’t want to be rude, and she doesn’t have anything better to do. The only barely-open spot is on the beanbag, and when Marie sees who’s on it she makes awkward eye contact and feels even less prepared. It’s Kacey Bellamy, of all people, who she ends up sitting next to, uncomfortably close considering the last time they saw each other Marie tripped over her and landed flat on her face. She wonders if Kacey remembers. Most of her doubts it.

Kacey is smaller than Marie remembers her, probably partially because they’re enveloped by the plush beanbag and partially because she’s just in jeans and a t-shirt instead of pads and skates. The beanbag isn’t really big enough for both of them, but Kacey smiles at her and wriggles like it’s going to make more room (it doesn’t). Boston is still so strange.

Marie spends most of the episode distracted by how hard she’s trying to stay out of Kacey’s personal space and how surreal it is that they’re all just sitting there like friends. They could all be friends, actually, which is the strangest part. Eventually even Kaleigh comes out and joins them, cross-legged on the floor at Anya’s feet with Anya mindlessly braiding her hair, and nobody seems as weirded out by all of it as she is. But she tries to be normal about it. She does okay, too, until Meghan says something she’s too spaced-out to hear and Kacey laughs, a hugely genuine, full-body laugh that presses their knees together.

Then Marie has to decide whether she should move away so that they’re not touching anymore or leave it. It’s strange to leave it, she thinks, because they don’t know each other very well, but then she’s worried that if she moves away Kacey’s going to be offended or something, so she just leaves her leg there and notices her palms starting to sweat.

By the time the Americans leave she’s exhausted, and she flops back into the beanbag, letting it surround her, until she hears Anya trying to talk to her and sits up again.

“You were being so weird,” Anya says, and Marie almost sinks back into the beanbag to ignore her.

“It was weird,” Marie replies petulantly, “for me.”

“Please,” Anya says, “I bet it’s just because you have the hots for Kacey.” 

She’s kidding, but Marie can feel her ears start to go telltale pink and prays that neither of them will notice. At Anya’s feet, Kaleigh looks up from her phone and says, “I have the hots for Kacey,” and Anya swipes at her, laughing.

“Shut up, hetero,” she says, and when she looks up Marie knows she must be blushing.

“Oh my God,” Anya grins, getting up so that she can join Marie on the beanbag, “you do have the hots for Kacey Bellamy.”

“Shut up,” Marie says, “I don’t,” but it’s too late, and the sinking pit of dread in her stomach only grows when Anya’s grin does.

“You guys would be so cute,” Kaleigh says, and Marie’s actually thankful because Anya turns around to make fun of her and leaves enough space for her to disappear into her room. The next time they’re all together is after her shower, and they seem to have moved on to something else. In hindsight Marie will realize she should have known better. 

-

“What makes you think I need a blind date?” Kacey says, watching Meghan straighten her hair in the mirror. She’s lying upside down on Meghan’s bed, legs up against the headboard, so the whole process looks weird and backwards to her.

“Actually,” she amends, “what would make _anyone_ think I needed a blind date? I do great on my own.”

“That’s not the point,” Meghan says.

“It so is,” Kacey says, “I have no problem meeting girls. Of any of us, I have the least problems. Would you agree?”

“No,” Meghan says, “but that’s not the point. The point is that the date is already set up. And you can’t bail at the last second.”

“I can,” Kacey says, “because technically I never agreed to it.”

Meghan unplugs the straightener and sets it carefully aside. She looks in the mirror for a second before she turns around and leans against the dresser, crossing her arms.

“Imagine that girl for a second,” she says, “if you don’t show up. She’ll feel awful. You would too.”

“She doesn’t even know me,” Kacey mutters, squeezing her eyes shut.

“It doesn’t matter,” Meghan insists, “she knows someone’s supposed to go out on a blind date with her tonight, and when you don’t show up, what’s she supposed to think?”

“That I didn’t want to go on a blind date,” Kacey says, “just like she probably doesn’t if she’s sane at all.”

But she gets out of bed when she imagines some random girl sitting at a table alone, the waiter coming back to check on her again and again, refilling her water or whatever it is she’s drinking. She feels bad for her hypothetical date, just like Meghan had to know she would. She glares when she sits up, and Meghan just quirks an eyebrow at her.

“I still don’t understand why anyone would take being stood up on a blind date personally,” Kacey mutters, but a part of her does--because if it were her, _she_ would, and Meghan knows that, too.

-

**I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.**

Anya sends back a string of emojis that, as always, show up as boxes for Marie. She doesn’t ask what they were this time--she just puts her phone down and resists the urge to put her head down on the table with it. Anya had her text as soon as she found a table, to make sure the blind date knew where to find her, but now Marie’s kind of wishing she had lied, or refused to come, or something. It’s 6:40 and nobody’s there but her.

She’s thinking about leaving when she looks up and Kacey Bellamy walks through the door.

Kacey sees her and stops in her tracks. She laughs out loud, and Marie wants to crawl under the table or out a window. The heat of embarrassment starts in her feet and rises up all into her face where she know it’s turning her pink, but Kacey doesn’t walk out, she walks over.

-

“I thought you’d stood me up,” she says.

Marie-Philip Poulin thinks that Kacey stood her up.

She’s feeling a combination of anger at their friends and concern for Marie that confuses her so much she blurts out “No,” and Marie looks up from her hands like she’s surprised that Kacey answered her at all, still blushing.

“No,” Kacey repeats, “I wouldn’t.”

Just like Meghan said.

“Did you know it was me?” Kacey asks, and Marie shakes her head, sealing Anya’s fate for good. At first Kacey can’t believe Anya would do this at all, but the more she thinks about it the more it makes sense. Terrible, horrible sense. The least she can do is make the date good.

“Okay, well,” she says, “at least they picked a good cajun place,” and when Marie almost smiles Kacey can feel it become her goal for the night.

Before their food comes, she’s already found out more than she ever thought she’d know about Canada’s sweetheart. She has a brother, older, three years, who went to Moncton and whose name is so French that Kacey forgets it immediately. She says she’s still learning English, to which Kacey says she is, too, but Marie doesn’t laugh, just looked perplexed. She’s never had cajun food, somehow--Kacey can’t understand how since she’s _French_ \--but she says she likes shrimp so Kacey recommends a Po’ boy, which she spends ten minutes trying to explain.

That’s how she gets Marie to laugh, finally. She’s trying to explain the sandwich, using her hands, saying “It’s just a sub with shrimp on it.”

“A sub,” Marie says, and Kacey says, “yes,” making the approximate shape with her hands.

“A sandwich,” she amends, continuing to try and shape it with her hands on an empty table, and Marie frowns.

“You look like--” she breaks off, mumbling something that Kacey can’t catch at first.

“Tu ressembles à--” she tries again, pointing at Kacey’s hands, and then says loudly, “Mime!” and laughs, a full, clear laugh that Kacey could swear she would have heard from across the room.

“A mime?” Kacey says, “seriously? I’m not even in stripes. You’re French-er than I am.”

“It seems strange to put shrimp on a sandwich,” Marie says, and Kacey shrugs.

“You’ll see.”

-

Marie’s right--it is strange to put shrimp on a sandwich. It’s not bad, though, and halfway through she realizes she actually really likes it. 

“It’s not very French,” she says, expecting Kacey to laugh at her.

“Well,” Kacey says instead, “it’s--I mean, the history of the area is complicated, I think? I don’t remember exactly. They were French-Canadians originally, or something like that.”

“I wonder who chose this,” Marie says, and Kacey shakes her head, smiling down at the table, at her hands. Marie looks at her hands, too, and then wishes that she hadn’t. Kacey has long, slender hands, and Marie was plenty attracted before she noticed them. She didn’t need the help, but Kacey’s fiddling with a ring on her right hand and that only makes it worse.

“I’m sorry they did this to you,” Kacey says, and Marie flushes. Her preoccupation with Kacey’s hands is keeping her from feeling like crying, now, that someone has finally recognized she was upset and bewildered. 

“It’s okay,” she says, silently praying for their waiter to interrupt. He doesn’t, but Kacey changes the subject, and when Marie realizes dinner is more or less over she starts to panic. This was never really supposed to happen in the first place. In the real world, someone like Kacey doesn’t go out on dates with someone like her. Kacey is miles out of her league, older and cuter, but for the last hour or so Marie’s been able to pretend that she’s not, and now that illusion’s about to come to an end.

When the check comes, Kacey takes it.

Marie feels like she’s watching from outside her own body when they get up from the table. She’s disoriented at first, can’t remember where the entrance was, and Kacey directs her with a gentle, friendly hand in the middle of her back that makes Marie’s palms sweat. It doesn’t stay for long, but Marie can still feel the pressure afterwards, and the cool September air is beyond welcome when they step out into it.

“Where’d you park?” Kacey asks, and Marie looks down at her feet.

“Um,” Marie says, “I walked.”

-

Kacey looks up at where they are and realizes that it’s actually a pleasant walking distance from 1601. Marie looks lost again, and Kacey doesn’t like the idea of her walking back home alone. She can see it, actually, Marie with her hands in her pockets and her head down, eyes trained on the toes of her shoes. Nobody should end a date like that. Especially not someone who didn’t ask for it to begin with.

“Alright,” Kacey says, smiling when Marie looks up and at her again, “let’s go.”

They don’t say much on the walk back, but that’s alright with Kacey. She had never realized that she was taller than Marie, had no reason to notice on the ice. It’s not that Marie’s small, either. Even just the way her sweater hugs her back and shoulders is enough to remind Kacey of that. It’s just that Kacey’s having her first few moments of seeing Marie as a person, as someone physically real just like she is. They’d studied that in a sociology class at some point in her college career, but she can’t remember the word for it anymore.

Marie hesitates at the door of her building, but Kacey just opens it for her and follows her in. She’s already decided she won’t go upstairs. She doesn’t want Anya or Kaleigh to see her or hear her, for her sake as much as for Marie’s. Marie is silent when she presses the button for her floor, but then she turns, clearing her throat.

“Thank you for dinner,” she says shyly, stepping into the elevator when it opens. Somehow Kacey had expected more time. She’s not sure what to do with herself, just sure that she has to do something, so she ends up leaning into the elevator.

-

Kacey leans into Marie’s space, into the elevator, and Marie’s heart stops. She turns her head instinctively, thinking that Kacey was aiming to kiss her, but when Kacey ends up kissing the corner of her mouth--more her cheek than anything else--Marie realizes she was just trying to kiss her on the cheek and is filled with embarrassment so strong that she’s impressed she doesn’t start crying immediately. Of course Kacey wasn’t trying to kiss her. Kacey’s just being nice to her. Kacey’s only being decent.

“Night,” Kacey says, leaning back and blinking. Marie can’t form any words before the elevator starts beeping in protest of Kacey holding it open. She lets go, and Marie stares at her while the doors close. She had no idea she could even be this mortified.

She wanted Kacey to want to kiss her so badly that for a moment she had actually convinced herself it was true. 

Anya, Lou, and Kaleigh are waiting for her when she opens the door, but she breezes past them without making eye contact, headed for her room.

“Hey!” Kaleigh says, scrambling up off the couch, “how did it go?”

“Don’t talk to me,” Marie croaks, too aware that she’s seconds from crying and desperate to be in a private place when she does. She locks herself in her room and somehow manages to get into bed before the tears do start. She presses her face into her pillow, holding her breath and hoping they’ll stop. She’s not a child, she doesn’t want to cry over a girl; she hasn’t cried over a girl in years, it feels like, but it’s happening anyway.

And her roommates are knocking on her door.

“What happened?” Lou asks, and Marie takes a shuddering breath.

“Leave me alone,” she says.

“She showed up though,” Anya continues, “right? I mean, I know she did. You were there for a while.”

Marie decides that not answering them is the only way they’ll stop asking questions, so she just lies on her bed face-down and holding back more tears until they’re silent and she can breathe again. It still hurts to, especially because she can’t stop remembering Kacey’s lips against her skin, the kiss it could have been and the kiss Kacey meant for it to be.

She’s replaying it in her mind for the millionth time when her phone buzzes with a text.

She’s expecting it to be one of her roommates, but when she picks it up it’s from a number she doesn’t recognize.

**its Kacey**

Marie blinks rapidly, rolling onto her side so she can read the text properly. As she does that a second text comes through that makes her let go of the breath she’s been holding.

**same time next week?**

They’re all waiting for her when she opens the door, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Anya grins at her, and Marie frowns, wrinkling her nose.

“I guess I forgive you,” she says, “maybe,” and Anya jumps up to hug her.

“Kacey’s so great,” she gushes, “she’s gonna be so great for you.”

Marie refuses to admit the way that thought gives her actual, honest-to-god butterflies.

-

Kacey’s first stop when she gets home is Meghan’s room. Meghan is propped up in bed doing a crossword or a sudoku or something, her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, and she either doesn’t notice Kacey leaning into her doorjamb at first or doesn’t feel like being distracted.

“You totally knew,” Kacey says finally, crossing her arms.

“Duh,” Meghan says without looking up, “and I was right, right?”

“About what?” Kacey asks, and Meghan finally looks up at her.

“You would have felt bad,” Meghan clarifies, “if you had stood her up. How did it go?”

Kacey pretends like she’s considering it even though she knows the answer. She shrugs, remembering specifically the way Marie had turned her head into the kiss and wishing she had been brave enough to go in for a proper kiss to begin with. 

“She’s sweet,” Kacey says eventually.

“You like her,” Meghan challenges, grinning.

“I could,” Kacey temporizes, even though she’s well aware how far gone she already is. 

-

Marie is nervous an hour before Kacey even shows up. She offers to drive, and it’s not until Marie’s getting dressed that she realizes she has no idea what to wear.

Everything she puts on feels like exactly what she wore for the first date. 

“You look great,” Anya says from her doorway, and Marie turns around to make a face at her.

“I wore almost the same thing before,” she says, and Anya laughs.

“Kacey owns like, three shirts in five different colors each,” she replies. “You’re fine.”

“Please don’t embarrass me,” Marie mumbles, looking at herself in the mirror again, and Kaleigh appears in the doorway with Anya.

“Is she coming to the door?” Anya says, and that’s the moment that Kacey chooses to knock.

Kaleigh beats them all to the door. She throws her arms around Kacey’s neck, smacks a kiss onto her cheek, and loops her arm through Kacey’s.

“I’m ready, babe,” she says, “let’s go,” and Marie huddles in the entrance to the living room, blushing furiously.

Kacey laughs, but she’s looking at Marie, not at anyone else. She’s in a baseball-style shirt, three quarter sleeves that are more like half sleeves because of the way they ride up on her shoulders, and Marie has to force herself not to look.

“I’m not your hot date,” Kacey says to Kaleigh, unhooking their arms, and she’s still grinning at Marie when she says, “I’m hers.”

Marie almost expires on the spot. _Hers_.

Alone with Kacey in the elevator again she remembers thinking that Kacey was going to kiss her and starts to feel a little lightheaded.

“How was your week?” Kacey asks, and Marie can’t even begin to come up with an answer.

“Sorry about them,” she says instead, and Kacey bumps their shoulders together comfortably.

“It doesn’t bother me,” she replies, and Marie can tell that she means it.

-

Marie is better at bowling than her.

Kacey does her best not to get frustrated about it. It’s hard when Marie makes it look so easy, when she’s destroying Kacey by the fifth frame and Kacey’s trying her damnedest just to keep up. It reminds her of the Olympics, of how effortlessly Marie moves with a puck, and she feels such a disorienting combination of impressed, attracted, and annoyed that she can’t really keep up conversation.

Marie doesn’t seem to mind that. She’s quiet, Kacey’s realizing, it wasn’t just the first date. She doesn’t talk much.

“You’re pushing too hard,” Marie says, after Kacey’s second whiff. It’s not a gutterball, but she’s only hitting maybe two pins at a time.

“I don’t know what that means,” Kacey replies, rolling out her wrist.

“I’ll show you,” Marie says, and she’s not even being smug. At first Kacey thinks she is, until she turns to make eye contact, but Marie’s just earnest, and sincere, and Kacey can feel herself start to soften even if she has their scores burned into her mind.

Marie bowls a strike and Kacey’s not sure she wants to be taught anything. That lasts until Marie turns around again, watching her reach for a ball, and then Kacey decides to let her try. It’s just a date. She’s not there to win anything.

Marie moves in behind her, watching her set up, and Kacey can feel Marie’s eyes on her and is surprised how much that gets to her. 

“You’re just...” Marie starts to speak, but instead she sidles closer and reaches for Kacey’s arms. To do that she’s standing close enough behind her that Kacey can feel the heat of her, and it distracts her enough that her arms relax.

“Yeah,” Marie says, but her mouth is _so_ close to Kacey’s ear, “yeah, you have to, you know. Just let it go. You don’t have to throw it.”

“That’s not how bowling works,” Kacey mumbles. The hair on the back of her neck is standing on end. She goes to bowl and Marie lets her go. This time she can’t focus enough to really muscle it, she’s still so distracted, and she ends up doing exactly what Marie told her to, just letting it go.

She downs all but one pin.

When she turns around she’s expecting an ‘I told you so’, or at least for Marie to look smug, but instead she’s grinning, a full, wide, toothy grin.

“You did it!” She exclaims, and Kacey considers tossing herself down the bowling lane for her next turn.

-

“You, um,” Kacey clears her throat, shifting the car out of park into neutral and drive without looking up, “you can come back for a bit, if you want? Meghan and Erika won’t be back for a while.”

Marie hesitates. She’s not sure what Kacey’s asking, exactly, but when Kacey looks up she blurts out “sure,” like it’s a timed answer. On the short drive to Kacey’s apartment, Marie realizes that she’s never been in a situation like this, never gone home with someone after a date, at least not someone she wasn’t already friends with. Kacey’s apartment smells like her. It’s small, but the floors are hardwood, the real kind that creaks when you step on it just right.

“You want a beer or something?” Kacey asks, and Marie shakes her head. She watches Kacey toe her boots off and wonders if she should take her shoes off, too. She would at home, but her roommates don’t always. It seems like it might be a Canadian thing. The living room is carpet, so she does it anyway, following Kacey in socked feet.

Kacey turns on the TV with a Sam Adams in her other hand and leans back once House Hunters is on. Marie sits down and realizes too late that she’s awkwardly far away. She wants to be closer to Kacey, but when she slides over she’s too close and can’t breathe right. She stares down at her hands for a few seconds before she remembers that the TV is on and she should be watching it. When she looks up, Kacey is watching her, mouth still on the lip of her beer bottle as if she’s just taken another sip.

Kacey puts down the bottle on the table and Marie’s heart skips when she twists to face her.

“You know,” she says, completely seriously, “you can kiss me.”

Marie’s eyes fall to Kacey’s lips. She can’t help herself. She looks up again at Kacey’s eyes and there’s nothing there that could be construed as joking. Her arm is resting on the top of the couch, sort of behind Marie’s shoulders, and Marie’s focused on Kacey’s lips again when she leans in. She’s still caught up in disbelief when Kacey kisses her back. It doesn’t feel real until she can taste the beer on Kacey’s breath.

Kacey’s arm moves from the back of the couch to curl around Marie’s neck, and Marie reaches up blindly for Kacey’s face, framing Kacey’s jaw in her hands to steady herself and because she wants to be able to feel the line of Kacey’s jaw with her fingertips. She’s been staring at it all night, and now she has to wonder if Kacey noticed. It seems stupid to think that she didn’t.

The kiss goes on and on until Marie’s out of breath and starting to feel overheated. Kacey reaches for her with her free hand, fisting it into Marie’s shirt, pulling her in, and Marie lets herself be pulled until their upper bodies are close. With their knees are pressed together, Kacey opens her mouth into the kiss, sliding her tongue along Marie’s lower lip.

Overwhelmed, Marie presses forward again, and Kacey sinks back into the couch cushions, her head resting against the arm. Now her hands are on Marie’s waist and Marie is surprised at how easy this is, how quickly she remembers even though it feels like it’s been ages. She knows how to do this. She hovers over Kacey, holding herself up with one hand and still cupping Kacey’s cheek with her other--and it’s Kacey that turns her head first, sucking air into her lungs like she’s been holding her breath. Marie looks up at her and kisses her jaw instead, surprised at her own boldness, but pleasantly so.

It’s only a few moments of that before Kacey turns her head back and kisses Marie again, but this time the kiss is different, is hungrier like Marie kissing a part of Kacey that isn’t her lips has changed something about the entire encounter. She doesn’t mind, she’s just not sure how this works, yet, not sure what to do or whether she should wait to do anything at all. Instead she focuses on kissing Kacey, letting Kacey’s hand between her shoulderblades guide her, her own fingers sliding tentatively through the wisps of hair that have come loose from Kacey’s ponytail.

-

Kacey’s phone buzzes on the coffee table. Marie starts to pull back, but Kacey cranes her neck, chasing the kiss up, determined to keep going, sure that no matter what it is, it can’t be more important than this. Marie gives in easily, leaning back down until their bodies are pressed together again, or close to it. That lasts only until Kacey’s phone buzzes again, and then Marie sits up. Kacey reaches for it grumpily, almost knocking it off the table in her haste.

 

“Meghan,” Kacey sighs. Marie is still straddling her hips. Both her hands are on Kacey’s hips now, by her own knees. She blinks a few times before she says, “I should go,” and the way she says it or asks it makes Kacey’s heart twist in a way that shocks her.

“You,” she starts, and then stops, “I’ll drive you home. Unless you want to deal with them.”

“I should go,” Marie repeats, but this time it’s not a question. She doesn’t get up right away, though, and Kacey slides her hands up from Marie’s knees along her thighs just because she can. She wishes they had more time. She wishes a lot of things, all of a sudden. She sits up, kissing Marie once more before they do actually get up off of the couch, and she’s just grabbed her keys when Meghan and Erika breeze through the door.

“We’re leaving,” Kacey says loudly, trying to pass them before they can say anything. Marie’s too slow, though, too far behind her, so they end up blocked, standing side by side in front of her roommates like it’s a showdown.

“Aw,” Meghan says, “no, come on, let’s all hang out.”

“Leaving,” Kacey says, “bye,” and she shoves between them, reaching her hand out behind her to try and show Marie that she can follow. Marie actually takes her hand, which isn’t what Kacey was expecting, and Kacey can practically hear her roommates chirping her hours from now.

Still, she doesn’t let go of Marie’s hand until she has to, in order to open the passenger side door for Marie, whose blush has only gotten deeper.

-

This time Kacey walks her up to the apartment.

Marie is still tingling all over like all of her limbs fell asleep when they get into the elevator. It’s empty except for them, and she wishes Kacey would kiss her. She knows she’s seen movies or TV shows where that’s happened, and she has an image of herself pressed against one wall with Kacey kissing her that’s hard for her to shake. She doesn’t want Kacey to go. She doesn’t want the night to end. She wants to be back on Kacey’s couch, with her hands in Kacey’s hair and Kacey’s on her waist.

“Thanks for teaching me how to bowl,” Kacey says, in the awkward silence between floors.

“You’re welcome,” Marie replies, because it’s the polite thing to say. Getting her arms around Kacey’s, even for a second and just to show her how to relax, was Marie’s favorite part of bowling, though she knows better than to say so.

“I really,” Kacey starts, then trails off when the doors open, following Marie into the hallway, “I like this. Going out with you.”

Marie stops short of her door. She’s a little incredulous still, a little disbelieving when she’s confronted with the fact that Kacey seems to actually _like_ her. She can’t imagine that’s going to change, but she doesn’t want Kacey to read her hesitation as something it’s not.

“Me, too,” she replies, but it’s unclear and she knows it so she scrambles to clarify and only comes out with, “I like you.”

It’s so juvenile that she immediately feels like kicking herself. She sounds twelve at the most, like she’s just passed Kacey a note from across a classroom with instructions to check ‘yes’ or ‘no’, and she looks away immediately. She’s blushing again when Kacey reaches out for her, and if she thought she was blushing as hard as she could, she learns that she was wrong. Kacey turns her head with a hand on her jaw, so that eye contact is absolutely necessary, and then she leans in for a chaste kiss that Marie never wants to be done with.

On the other side of the door, one of her roommates squeals.

-

“So,” Meghan says, ambushing Kacey the instant she’s back inside her own apartment, “second date, huh?”

Kacey pretends not to hear her, wandering into the kitchen for some water. Meghan follows, leaning against the counter, but she doesn’t say anything else. She just waits, which is even more maddening.

Kacey drinks her water. She makes steady eye contact with Meghan, which is a challenge she knows she’s going to lose. If Meghan fought her, argued with her, wheedled her, she might be able to get away with it, but still Meghan stands there, impassive, arms crossed, waiting. Because she _knows_ Kacey. Knows her well enough to know that she’s trying her hardest not to gush.

“We went bowling,” Kacey says carefully. She can still feel Marie’s lips if she concentrates hard enough.

“Wow,” Meghan replies.

Kacey takes her turn being quiet. She finishes her water, puts the glass away, and re-ties her ponytail even though she’s about to get into bed. 

“Then,” Meghan says, “you brought her back here.”

“We watched Chopped,” Kacey says distractedly, and Meghan’s sudden, wicked grin means that she’s made a mistake somewhere, though she’s not sure how.

“House Hunters,” Meghan says gleefully, and Kacey glares at her.

“What?”

“It was House Hunters,” Meghan says, “that was on. Not Chopped.”

“Okay,” Kacey says, “so?”

“Next time,” Meghan tells her, “if you wanna bring her home, just tell us and we’ll stay gone longer.”

Kacey doesn’t like that idea. She knows that Meghan is being serious, that if she asked they would give her time and space, but then they would know what she was up to, or worse, they would speculate. She doesn’t want anyone to speculate. She just wants to be alone with Marie without it being some kind of ordeal, which is still something she’s having trouble wrapping her mind around at all.

She has a feeling that being with Marie-Philip Poulin, of all people, is always going to be an ordeal.

-

Marie’s very aware, every time they see each other again, of how attracted she is to Kacey. It seems mutual, but she appreciates that Kacey takes her time, that she doesn’t jump into anything.

What she doesn’t appreciate is that they can’t get enough time alone for anything to happen. They haven’t talked about what they’re doing beyond establishing that they’re both enjoying themselves, and Marie isn’t antsy to know, but she knows that people are going to ask. She has bigger things to worry about, though. A week later they’re at Marie’s apartment when the same thing happens, except that her roommates don’t text to warn her and she hears the key in the lock and Kaleigh’s voice with Kacey’s hand halfway up her shirt. They both scramble, shaking out and tying back their hair and straightening their shirts before everyone comes in, but they’re also both red enough that it’s obvious what they were doing, and Marie isn’t surprised when they tease her endlessly about it later.

The third time, they’re at Kacey’s when Kacey finds out they’re going to have company. It happens with Kacey in her lap, with her shirt off, even though they both know that’s asking for disaster if someone decides to come home without warning. Marie sighs, dropping her hands onto the couch, away from Kacey’s skin even though it’s all she can focus on.

“You don’t have to leave,” Kacey says suddenly. “I mean, we can go to my room. If you want.”

Mostly what Marie wants is to make a mark somewhere. Not somewhere that Kacey’s roommates will see, but somewhere Kacey will see when she gets out of the shower. The thought of Kacey and the shower alone makes Marie a little lightheaded.

“Okay,” she says, her hands back on Kacey’s hips, “sure.”

They’re in Kacey’s room when the front door unlocks. Marie ignores it. She’s on her back, watching Kacey crawl up to hover over her, her heart hammering. She slides her hands up from Kacey’s hips, over her ribs, then back down, tucking her fingertips just beneath the waist of Kacey’s jeans.

Kacey just looks at her for a few seconds, settling with a leg between Marie’s, and then her hand slides under Marie’s shirt, over her stomach. There’s a noise from the kitchen, and then a door closes somewhere near the room. Kacey stays focused, pushing Marie’s shirt up over her stomach and sliding back so that she can kiss the skin she’s exposed--long, lingering kisses that send a shock straight up and down Marie’s spine. It’s startlingly intimate, knowing there are people nearby, making eye contact with Kacey when she looks up with her lips still on Marie’s skin.

A pot or a pan bangs against something and Marie jumps, making Kacey sit up; some hair has fallen into her eyes and she blows it out of the way in frustration.

“Sorry,” Marie mumbles, her hands on Kacey’s jean-clad thighs now.

“No,” Kacey says, “don’t apologize, it’s not you.”

After a few seconds of silence, Kacey leans down again, this time pressing her lips to Marie’s, lying so that they’re pressed together completely. She’s settled between Marie’s legs now, but when Marie shifts up to follow the kiss she bumps up against Kacey’s hipbone and the pressure makes her catch her breath. She realizes then that was the idea. Kacey’s laying like that for a reason. It comes to her before Kacey bears down, somehow, bringing the pressure again, rolling her hips just enough. Marie can’t figure out how Kacey knew exactly where to put herself even with most of their clothes still on, but she can’t question it now, not when she’s in the middle of it. She closes her eyes, holding onto Kacey’s biceps and letting Kacey move against her, afraid to move, herself.

The pots clang together again and Kacey stops, dropping her forehead against Marie’s shoulder with a huff.

“God dammit,” she murmurs, and Marie has to agree with her, but silently, staring up at Kacey’s ceiling and still aware of Kacey’s hip caught between her legs.

“No,” Kacey continues, “I’m sorry, I--”

“It’s fine,” Marie says, “I just like being with you, we don’t have to.”

“You’re sweet,” Kacey says, leaning down to kiss her again, but it’s the kind of kiss that means it’s over for the night and Marie knows it.

The fourth time--the last time--is that weekend. Marie’s roommates are home, but she’s determined not to let that get in their way. She’s trying not to think about having sex with any of them even remotely present or aware, but she’s getting desperate. Kacey hangs out with them in the kitchen for a bit while Marie tries to think of a subtle way to excuse them, and all she can do is ask Kacey to help her study, which ends in snickers from Kaleigh and Kacey raising her eyebrows like she’s in on the joke.

“Flash cards?” she asks, and Marie glares at her. Kacey still follows her, and from the kitchen Anya calls after them, cupping her hands around her mouth.

“Use protection!”

When Marie closes the door to her room Kacey presses her into it, kissing her neck and her jaw. Marie feels like her roommates can still see them, somehow, but she tries to relax, pressing a hand against Kacey’s lower back and tugging her in with her free hand dragging Kacey by the belt.

“Does it bother you?” Kacey asks, her breath hot against Marie’s ear, and Marie shudders.

“I’m sure I’ll forget,” she promises.

“Yeah,” Kacey agrees, “you will,” and it sounds like a promise.

She steers Marie to her bed and they fall half on top of her backpack, which Kacey kicks off the bed unceremoniously.

“You weren’t actually going to have me help you study,” she says, tugging Marie’s shirt over her head, “were you?”

“Anatomy,” Marie jokes, and it’s one of the first times she can remember making Kacey laugh like this, enough that she has to close her eyes and catch her breath a little, though that might be because she’s straddling Marie’s hips and resting a hand on her stomach. Marie is bold enough this time to flip them, pushing up Kacey’s shirt until Kacey tosses it away. This time, too, she tells herself she’s _going_ to make that mark.

“We should put music on,” Kacey mumbles, “something,” and Marie’s mouth skims across Kacey’s throat.

“My laptop’s on the night table,” she replies, but she doesn’t move. Kacey fumbles with it with one hand, and after a few seconds music does come on. When Kacey’s hands find her shoulders again, Marie picks the spot she wants, just at Kacey’s collar, and bears down. Kacey seems surprised, her grip on Marie tightening. Marie sucks at the spot she’s picked, and the second her teeth hit Kacey’s skin Kacey makes a sound--soft, quiet, but definitely there, something that Marie realizes is new to her. She’s never heard Kacey do that before. She wants to hear more of it and less of the music.

Instead what happens, when she lifts her head to see her handiwork, is that somewhere in the kitchen one of her roommates moans loudly, lewd and exaggerated like a porn star, and then there’s a chorus of hysterical laughter.

“Ignore them,” Kacey says, guiding Marie’s hand to her bra, “they didn’t hear anything, they’re just--”

 

“Yeah,” Marie says, but she’s distracted, dragging her index finger along the cup of Kacey’s bra until Kacey stiffens a little, surprising herself again when she leans down and replaces it with her mouth. Kacey squirms, reaching around behind herself with one hand to unhook her bra and shrugging out of it. Marie stays put, this time getting her lips and her tongue on skin, and Kacey makes another sound, this one a little less quiet, but still not as loud as the music.

The moaning from the kitchen comes again and Marie pulls back, sitting on her heels.

“I’m going to kill them,” she announces.

“Later,” Kacey replies, reaching for her hands again, “please.”

Marie lets her hands be guided, and Kacey squeezes them, but Marie’s heart isn’t in it anymore. She just feels watched. She knows that Kacey can tell, because eventually Kacey lets go of her and sighs.

“This isn’t gonna work,” she says, and Marie’s heart sinks. It’s not really a surprise, though, she thinks to herself--it was always a little crazy to think that someone like Kacey, someone with a life and pretty much unlimited options, would want her. 

“We’re gonna need an alternate location,” Kacey continues, and Marie gets whiplash trying to understand that she’s not getting dumped. They’re not even officially anything--which is another thing she needs to tackle, eventually.

“Your car is too small,” she says, and Kacey smirks.

“You’d be surprised,” she replies, and Marie blushes, as if her hands aren’t still splayed out on Kacey’s naked chest. “I don’t want to do this in the back of my car, though,” Kacey continues, sitting up, dislodging Marie, “I want more room than that.”

“Yeah,” Marie agrees, swallowing, but she’s not sure exactly what she’s agreeing to. She’s too caught up in understanding that Kacey really thinks about this, really thinks about how she wants her. Kacey puts her bra back on, and Marie clears her throat, reaching for her shirt and handing over Kacey’s.

“Do you trust me?” Kacey says, sitting cross-legged now.

“Um,” Marie replies, thumbing the hem of her t-shirt, “yes?”

“Good,” Kacey says, grinning, “okay. Good.”

-

Kacey picks Marie up at eight for dinner. It’s been very carefully orchestrated so that nobody but them knows where they’re going, in particular. Actually--Marie only knows about dinner right now, and Kacey’s banking on things working out. If they don’t, at least she’ll get a night on a memory foam mattress.

“That was,” Marie says, following Kacey out of the restaurant, “the best burger, I think, in America.”

“I dunno,” Kacey says, laughing, “how long have you been here, again?”

“Long enough to know,” Marie insists, “I’ll never be hungry again.”

When Kacey steers her towards the Marriott, Marie hesitates, confusion all over her face.

“We both have roommates,” Kacey says, stopping on the sidewalk, “I thought, you know, we’d--I thought this would at least be somewhere private.”

“Oh,” Marie says, clearing her throat, “I--”

“We don’t have to,” Kacey says quickly, “I haven’t paid yet, if you want to go home I’ll take you home. It’s just an option.”

“It’s a nice hotel,” Marie says quietly, and Kacey wants to die. She’s sure that Marie feels obligated, and sure that Marie feels as though Kacey thinks of her as a lay when that’s not the case, and completely unsure of how to fix it.

“It’s not a big deal,” Kacey mumbles.

“No,” Marie says, “I mean, I think it’s, um-- romantic.”

“There’s a mini bar,” Kacey jokes, grinning, “with tiny little bottles of whiskey and wine.”

“Wine,” Marie laughs, and lets Kacey lead her inside.

-

It _is_ a nice hotel. When Marie goes into the bathroom there are tiny bottles of soap and shampoo, too, which are less exciting than mini bottles of alcohol but are also, she thinks, free.

“This shower is the size of my dorm room last year,” she jokes, and Kacey laughs, leaning against the wall.

“Big enough for two people,” she says, and Marie can’t really tell if she’s kidding or not. She turns to face Kacey, and Kacey’s face softens immediately. Marie still can’t believe it’s her that makes that happen, her that Kacey looks at like this.

“We can just put the TV on,” Kacey says, “I just want to spend time with you without anyone else around. We don’t have to do anything.”

It’s the second time she’s said that, and Marie realizes that Kacey’s not sure whether or not Marie wants her like this. That’s what spurs her into action, finally. She backs Kacey out of the bathroom and cups Kacey’s face in her hands and kisses her, long and slow without doing anything else. 

“Okay,” Kacey says, when they break for air, “or…”

“Shh,” Marie replies, and Kacey smiles into the kiss, sliding her hands under Marie’s shirt at her lower back. Marie’s hands have just left Kacey’s face for her shoulders-- her absurd, flexing shoulders-- when Kacey tugs up Marie’s shirt and tosses it aside. 

Marie wants to focus on Kacey, but Kacey wants to focus on _her_ , and she’s so surprised that she can’t really find it in her to resist that. She’s not sure what to do with that kind of attention, or what to do with her hands when Kacey takes the time just to touch her, her stomach, her hips, her lower back. Kacey kisses her jaw and Marie’s hands tighten on her shoulders.

“Bed,” Marie murmurs, and Kacey grins, pulling away. “And shirt,” she adds, with as much authority as she can manage. She’s expecting Kacey to grin at her again, expecting it to be funny, but instead Kacey whips off her shirt and tugs Marie towards the bed.

Kacey sits on the edge of the bed, and Marie expects to follow her down, but Kacey doesn’t move. Instead she tugs Marie in by the hips again, and now with Marie’s chest at eye level she reaches around to unhook her bra. She does it so easily, so quickly that Marie’s out of breath before Kacey’s mouth even hits her skin, and the sensation makes her stop second-guessing herself. She tugs Kacey’s hair out of its ponytail, chewing her lip to keep herself quiet, and then she remembers she doesn’t have to be quiet.

She exhales on a quiet moan when Kacey’s open mouth drags along her breast and Kacey stiffens, gripping her waist reflexively.

“You sound so good,” Kacey mumbles, arching up to move her mouth to Marie’s neck, sliding her hands down Marie’s lower back. Marie’s stomach flips and she pushes Kacey back onto the bed with both hands on her shoulders, straddling her hips and leaning down to kiss her, overwhelmed. It’s not that she doesn’t want Kacey to keep talking. It’s more that she’s not sure she could handle it if she did, and she wants to be able to _handle_ this. She wants to be more than just putty in Kacey’s hands.

At least for now.

She braces her hands on either side of Kacey’s head and kisses her long and slow because it’s something she knows she can do. Kacey’s hands rest on the backs of Marie’s thighs until Marie sits back and breaks the kiss, forcing her hands back to Marie’s hips. For a moment they just look at each other. Kacey’s eyes are dark with focus when she drags her hands from Marie’s hips back up along her sides, and Marie, more ticklish than she’d like to admit, writhes in Kacey’s lap.

Kacey lets her breath out all at once, sharply, and Marie realizes that the involuntary movement works for someone other than her. She rocks forward again, tugging Kacey’s bra straps over her shoulders, and this time, with the pressure on purpose, Kacey’s eyes flutter closed.

Marie wants to ask how Kacey wants her, but it occurs to her it might be more fun to find out on her own. She keeps moving her hips against Kacey’s while Kacey shrugs out of her bra, and knowing that there’s nobody who can walk in on them, nobody to embarrass them or interrupt them, makes Marie want to take her time. 

She gets herself close, rocking against Kacey’s hipbone until she knows she’s either going to need more or to stop, and then she stops. 

-

For a second, Kacey really thought that Marie was going to get herself off like that, against her hip, both of them still in jeans. She wants to stop that from happening, sort of, wants the first time Marie comes with her to be because of _her_ , but she can’t tear her eyes away or make herself focus on doing anything. She’s too busy taking it in, taking notes. Marie’s a blusher, which isn’t news, but her blush goes down her neck and across her chest when she’s close, and Kacey’s fixated on that.

Marie stops moving and Kacey snaps back to reality. She wants her mouth on Marie, wants to make a mark somewhere obvious, wants to get her close again but this time on purpose. She rolls them over, lying between Marie’s legs, and can’t decide what she wants to do first.

She starts by sitting up on her heels and working at the button of Marie’s jeans. The zipper gets stuck, and Kacey gets impatient and needs Marie to reach down and do it herself (easily, like it was never stuck to begin with, but Kacey’s not going to dwell on that). Kacey slides her hand down the front of Marie’s jeans, even though she could pull them down, just so that she can watch Marie’s face instead of focusing on anything else. Marie’s mouth falls open when Kacey’s hand finds its way between her legs, and her eyes flutter when Kacey fixes the angle and strokes her fingers against cotton, wondering idly what kind of underwear Marie even wears.

“Kacey,” Marie breathes, and it’s so different from every time Kacey’s heard her say her name before that she hesitates, distracted.

Marie lifts her hips and Kacey gets the hint, taking her hand back so that she can pull Marie’s jeans down. She wears boyshorts, which Kacey’s not surprised about, really, when she lets herself even consider it. She wants them off but she wants to take her time, too, wants to make sure Marie’s not overwhelmed, so she works on her own jeans instead. She doesn’t want to get up, so it takes a little maneuvering and a little of Marie’s help before they’re kissing again, this time skin on skin for the most part.

Kacey almost feels like that would be enough all night. _Almost_.

When she leans back onto her heels again she rests her hands on Marie’s knees and just looks at her. Marie squirms, and at first Kacey thinks it’s just impatience, but when she tears her gaze away from Marie’s quads to check her expression she can see that it’s more than that. Marie’s grimacing a little, and Kacey reaches up to her face, resting against her free elbow.

“Hey,” she says, dragging her thumb across Marie’s lower lip, “talk to me.”

Marie closes her eyes for a moment before she tries to answer.

“I’m just,” she starts and then breaks off again, “I’m not--nobody’s ever looked at me. Like that.”

For a second Kacey thinks that Marie is trying to tell her she’s never done this before and her chest seizes. It wouldn’t make her stop, necessarily, unless Marie wanted them to, but the idea that she brought Marie to a hotel to sleep with her when Marie’s never--

“You,” she starts, “mean you’ve never, um..”

“No,” Marie breaks in, “I mean, I have, but the girls, the two I was with before, it wasn’t...they didn’t look at me much, it wasn’t about that. I don’t think they really wanted to see me like that, or anything.”

Kacey can’t think what to say at first. That blows her mind a little bit--more than a little bit--that anyone could have been with Marie and not wanted to see and experience every inch of her. She doesn’t say that, though, doesn’t want to overwhelm her. 

“Do you not want me to?” she asks, and Marie looks like she’s not sure what the question is, so she continues, “see you?”

Marie is quiet for a moment. Kacey thinks about whether or not she should repeat that she’s okay with them putting their clothes back on and watching a movie, or leaving altogether, but Marie does speak eventually, bright pink and avoiding eye contact.

“I can’t imagine why you’d want to,” she says.

“Marie,” Kacey says, and kisses her, overwhelmed with--she’s not even sure what the feeling is, some combination of affection and sadness for Marie that makes her eyes burn. She can’t put it into words, she thinks, can’t explain to Marie in a sentence or two or five what it is about her body that’s so attractive, but she can touch, and she can _try_.

Marie kisses her back, cupping Kacey’s face in her hands, and Kacey lets it go on until they’re out of breath. When she pulls back, still resting on one elbow so that she can push the hair away from Marie’s forehead, she finds herself wanting to tell Marie that she loves her, which is too soon and not true, she thinks. It can’t be, yet. And either way she can’t say it.

“Can I show you?” she asks, and Marie’s eyes flicker from her lips to her eyes and then back again before she nods.

Again Kacey’s not sure where to start. She kisses Marie again first, dropping her hand to slide it along Marie’s ribs because that’s familiar to both of them, because that’s something that they’ve done. She kisses Marie’s neck for a while, just waiting for her to relax. She noses along below Marie’s ear and when she exhales there Marie melts into the bed, something that makes Kacey smile. Her head lolls to the side, one of her hands tightening against Kacey’s lower back, and Kacey bears down on a spot at the base of her neck.

Marie squirms again when Kacey’s teeth work against her skin, and she makes a soft sound that Kacey can feel. She reaches down with one hand and hikes up one of Marie’s legs over her hip, just for a few moments until she’s sure she’s left enough of a mark that it won’t fade for days, and Marie is quiet again when she pulls back. She splays her hands across Marie’s chest, dragging them down, and as much as she’s tempted to rush she stops herself and reminds herself what she’s there to do.

She rests on her knees and aimlessly touches Marie’s breasts, checking her face again and again. It’s not to tease her, not to do anything other than show her that she’s being seen, that there’s plenty to see. She distracts herself watching Marie breathe, her eyes drawn to the way Marie’s stomach is rising and falling, the way she’s tensing from her core. She moves her hands so that one falls to Marie’s hip, her thumb running across the dip of her hipbone and her oblique. Marie’s ticklish there, so that before Kacey’s mouth even hits her abdomen she’s shifting again. It gives Kacey an idea, but she doesn’t act on it yet, instead she leaves her thumb still and mouths along Marie’s abs. She could do crunches for three hours a day and never get this kind of definition. She knows. She’s tried. 

Marie relaxes again, reaching down tentatively and sliding a hand around to cup the back of Kacey’s neck. Kacey replaces her thumb with her mouth, finding the spot that had made Marie ticklish before, and bears down to make another mark. Marie’s more sensitive there than anywhere else that Kacey’s found so far, and the sound she makes when Kacey sucks a bruise there sounds surprised, like she’s discovering the same thing.

Kacey slides her hands down along Marie’s thighs, again and again because she’s so enthralled with the juxtaposition of strong muscle and soft skin. Marie’s softer than Kacey expected in every way she can imagine, and this isn’t an exception. She touches Marie’s inner thighs, pressing her legs apart, her lips stilling just above the top of Marie’s undershorts, and then she sits up again.

“Can I?” she asks, and Marie doesn’t seem like she has any idea what the question is. Kacey waits, then drops back down again to kiss the top of Marie’s thigh, to make her point. 

“Yes,” Marie breathes, and Kacey is immediately overheating just from the sound of that, the sound of Marie’s voice. She tugs Marie’s undershorts down and Maire kicks them away. Kacey settles back between Marie’s legs, hooking an arm around Marie’s leg and resting her other hand on Marie’s stomach. Part of that is to anchor her, but part of it is also just to feel her breathing.

The breathing stops when Kacey pulls Marie to her mouth. Marie reaches down for the hand on her stomach and knots their fingers together, and Kacey doesn’t hesitate. Eventually Marie gasps, making up for the breath she’d been holding, and Kacey squeezes her hand. She takes her time again now that she’s where she wants to be, spending a while just letting Marie adjust to the new sensation and pressure before she finds any kind of focus. When she starts trying to figure out where Marie’s sensitive, what she wants and needs, she looks up, half for her own sake and half for Marie’s sake, and they make eye contact.

-

Marie feels like she’s transcended this plane of existence.

Looking down and Kacey looking up at her, Kacey squeezing her knuckles and holding her in place with the other hand, needing nothing but her mouth otherwise, it’s all much more than Marie had imagined. It’s the mix of sensations that throws her over the edge in the end, one hand fisted into the duvet and the other clasping Kacey’s until it hurts. It starts before she realizes and she never catches up, breathing out quiet, surprised half-moans while she’s trying to settle. Her legs are shaking like she’s run a hill sprint.

Kacey doesn’t even stop. She draws it out, until any sensation at all has Marie’ twitching and reaching for her, not because it’s painful but because it’s edging there and more than anything she wants Kacey face to face with her again. Kacey doesn’t hesitate to rejoin her, looping an arm loosely around Marie’s torso.

She doesn’t try to kiss Marie at all, just rests next to her and smiles at her, and it’s not smug in the least. Kacey looks as satisfied as Marie feels. She’s the one to initiate the kiss, and Kacey seems surprised but doesn’t resist it. She wants more from it, she wants to lay Kacey out on the bed and get her breathless, too, but she needs a minute first.

“I’ve wanted this for ages,” Kacey murmurs, looping an arm around Marie’s waist. Marie takes a deep breath, trying to imagine Kacey thinking about that, thinking about her, and it makes her flush again. She rolls over, pressing Kacey into the bed without a word, and Kacey just breathes, her eyes flicking from Marie’s eyes, down to her mouth, and back again.

“Me, too,” she says, and Kacey reaches up to drag her down into a kiss. 

Marie shifts so that she’s resting between Kacey’s knees, so that when she drops down onto her elbows they’re pressed together. It’s a lot of skin on skin, and she can feel Kacey moving beneath her, and for a few seconds that’s all she wants to do. That lasts until Kacey bumps against her nose leaning up to unhook her bra, and then Marie leans over onto one arm so that she can place a hand in the center of Kacey’s chest, just feeling her heartbeat. Kacey’s heart is racing and so is Marie’s. Her legs are still jelly from before, but that doesn’t stop her from touching Kacey’s skin, watching the way Kacey arches into the pressure when she reaches to palm Kacey’s breast. It doesn’t even occur to her for a few seconds that she’s torturing Kacey. She doesn’t mean to, and when Kacey lets out a frustrated sigh and shifts, pressing her knees against Marie’s hips, Marie takes the hint immediately, resisting the urge to apologize. 

She leans down to kiss Kacey again, still leaning on one elbow, tugging at Kacey’s underwear. She has to move again so that Kacey can get them off, but when she settles back between Kacey’s legs she feels more confident than before. Reminding herself that Kacey has been thinking about this makes it easy for her. 

Kacey tosses her head to one side, muffling what might have been a moan by pressing her lips together even before Marie does anything. She wants to go slowly, so all she’s done so far is touch Kacey’s inner thigh, but again it occurs to her that she might not be helping as much as she thinks she is. Kacey doesn’t need her to go slow, Kacey just needs _her_.

She moves her hand up, and Kacey sighs again, but this time it’s a sigh of relief. It doesn’t take her long to start moving against Marie’s hand, and Marie focuses, trying to move with her instead of in opposition. It’s not as difficult as she remembers. They fit, Marie trying to multitask and kissing along Kacey’s collarbones while Kacey wraps an arm around Marie’s shoulders. It comes easily, comfortably, the way their bodies work together. Marie’s surprised to find it doesn’t actually take much thinking at all. 

She rotates her wrist without deciding to, just instinctively, and Kacey gasps, her other hand clawing at Marie’s lower back all of a sudden. The new angle seems to work much better, because Kacey is moving more urgently now, and although Marie’s elbow has started to go numb from where she’s lying on it, she doesn’t dare move. Instead she mouths along Kacey’s collarbone again, biting down gently when Kacey’s hips come up, and then, suddenly, Kacey is still.

“Fuck,” she hisses, and then she starts to shake. Marie wishes she didn’t have to hold herself up, or that she could do it and still hold Kacey, but she has to choose, and the way that Kacey’s panting makes her wary of resting any weight against Kacey at all. She kisses Kacey’s neck, her jaw, and her cheek, while Kacey continues to shake, her knees clamping down on either side of Marie’s hips, her hands smoothing up and down Marie’s back.

“You okay?” she asks, and Kacey laughs breathlessly.

“More than okay,” Kacey replies, and Marie rolls off of her, gathering Kacey’s back to her front. Kacey settles back against her, still drawing in deep breaths.

For a few minutes they just lie like that, both of Marie’s arms around Kacey’s middle, Kacey’s hands covering hers while they breathe together. It’s the most comfortable Marie has ever been in silence with Kacey. She’s too satisfied to feel like she needs to fill the silence, and Kacey just strokes the backs of her hands and her forearms, until eventually she intertwines their legs.

“I think,” she says, “we can probably open that mini bar.”

Neither of them makes a move.

-

“Hey,” Kacey says, after a few long seconds of silence. Marie rests her chin on Kacey’s shoulder and Kacey counts to three before she makes herself just _do_ it. 

“I was wondering,” she says, “how you’d feel about being my girlfriend.”

Marie is very quiet. She buries her face in the back of Kacey’s neck and breathes, and Kacey squeezes Marie’s hands, trying to reassure herself. It turns out that she doesn’t need any reassurance. 

“Kacey,” Marie murmurs, her lips tickling against Kacey’s skin, and then she smiles so widely that Kacey has to roll over to kiss her.

“Yeah?” Kacey asks, and Marie nods, kissing her again, and then again, like she can’t get enough of the fact that she can. Kacey can’t help but hope she never does.


End file.
